


It Shouldn't Bend Like That

by Simply_Isnt_On



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Kisses, M/M, hurt ankle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-30
Updated: 2014-12-30
Packaged: 2018-03-04 10:26:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3064370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Simply_Isnt_On/pseuds/Simply_Isnt_On
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"john has been at a conference for two weeks, and as soon as he walks through the door of 221b, sherlock launches himself at john, and they kiss so fucking hard it’s not even a good kiss, sloppy and impatient, and sherlock slams john against the door, sherlock’s legs hook around john’s waist, and then Sherlock hurts his ankle and starts crying and John has to call the ambulance and close Sherlock’s trousers and there’s lots of red faces"</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Shouldn't Bend Like That

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cynosure_phrases](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cynosure_phrases/gifts).



> This is not actually based on a prompt, but rather taken from a post I saw which went:
> 
> "john has been at a conference for two weeks, and as soon as he walks through the door of 221b, sherlock launches himself at john, and they kiss so fucking hard it’s not even a good kiss, sloppy and impatient, and john slams sherlock against the door, sherlock’s legs hook around john’s waist, they don’t even talk, they just fuck right there, and they collapse once they’re done, breathing heavily, sweating,"
> 
> [x](http://sikenlck.tumblr.com/post/106207958043)
> 
> And me being me, I got about halfway through and my brain decided that the summary (^above) was actually where that post was going. So. Ahem. Not exactly the story I imagined, but here you are.

Two weeks. That’s how long John had been away, and Sherlock had only just noticed. The case had ended almost half a week ago, and he’d moved on to his experiments. It was only when he’d collapsed on the stairs from exhaustion that he noticed John hadn’t once nagged him about taking a break. Well. After he woke up.

Checking his text messages made him smile- he had one unread message, a week old, from John:

 

_Out 4 a conference, b bac Sun. Sleep. Eat some leftovers. Luv u._

 

After spending another twenty minutes dithering so no one could accuse him of obeying John, Sherlock did in fact heat some takeover for lunch, then showered and put on fresh clothes before flopping on the couch and checking the date on his phone. Friday. How would he survive? Because now Sherlock was bored, his experiment and case both finished, and since he and John had started dating, bored meant horny. He sighed and reached into his pants to have a wank, but gave it up for a loss after only a minute or two. He had no interest in wanking, he wanted to fuck John.

**

By Sunday he’d broken two strings on his violin, broken three Erlenmeyer flasks making vinegar volcanoes with various bases, and updated his blog. So when John walked in that afternoon not only was he bored and horny, he was more than a bit sheepish about the state of the flat. So he did the only sensible thing to get out of trouble- he jumped up and launched himself at John.

“Hi Sher- mmph!” John’s words were met by a sloppy, desperate kiss, causing him to stagger in the doorway. Once he got over his shock- which was fairly quickly in Sherlock’s opinion- he dropped his bag and grabbed Sherlock’s arse with both hands, tugging him closer..

“Fuck me,” the detective growled in John’s ear, moving to bite and suck at the place behind John’s ear that always made him whimper. He was not disappointed, and he could feel them both hardening where their hips ground together. After a moment, he shoved at John, walking them both backwards till John was pressed against the wall. He hiked his left leg up and tucked it against John’s arse, brought his right leg up- and promptly swore and lost his grip, tumbling halfway to the ground before John could catch him.

“Sherlock?!” Immediately John was in doctor mode, lowering him the rest of the way to the ground to avoid a concussion and kneeling between his knees, and oh that was a shame wasn’t it, because Sherlock rather thought a blowjob might take his mind off the radiating pain in his ankle.

“It’s my ankle, caught it at an angle against the wall-” He hissed as John lifted his ankle and carefully turned it, and even from where he lay Sherlock could see that it was already swelling. “D’you think it’s broken?” he asked with interest.

“You’d better hope not,” John muttered, face reddening. “We’re gonna need to x-ray this, I’ll call an amb-” Just then Mrs. Hudson poked her head around the doorframe and oh, it was unfortunate that Sherlock’s erection had yet to flag because she turned red too, though she rallied after a moment.

“What’s going on up here? Oh John, you’re back I’m glad- Sherlock, what on earth have you done to yourself now?” And then John was calling the clinic while she wrapped a bandage around his ankle so he could make it down the stairs and it really would have been better if they had kept John’s cane, because it was truly degrading to hobble down the stairs leaning heavily against both John and the wall, in his softest, most worn pyjamas and with a half-hard penis. Luckily John helped him to put on his coat before they got into the cab, saving him from having to explain to the cabbie, at least, exactly what had happened. Sherlock was sure he’d be called upon to explain what happened more than enough once they actually got to the clinic.

 


End file.
